Facets
by Wind Spark
Summary: Black, white, and the delightful little grey areas in between. Roy Mustang had always been blind, in more ways than one.


**{ f a c e t s }**

First Test

* * *

They had practiced for weeks, but this time, it was the real thing.

He took a breath, in, out, slowly. She straightened her skirt with slightly shaking fingers. They stood, silent.

"Ready?" she asked finally.

_No_.

"Yes."

His voice wasn't as steady as he would have hoped.

"Alright then."

Her voice holds enough strength for both of them.

She takes his hand.

He's afraid, inexplicably. After all, they've practiced this for weeks.

He shouldn't be afraid.

But he is.

They walk out the door, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm. Sunlight, warm, soft, like her, splashes across his skin for the first time in what feels like forever, and he inhales fresh, clean air. They climb down together, down the cement stairs and onto the sidewalk, her finger tapping out each step against the cotton of his shirt.

_One_…

_Two_…

_Three_…

They walk together, arm in arm, at a smooth, even pace, beside each other, for once. She slows before a crossing and he slows with her, waiting almost tensely as she glances both ways, and then continues.

They walk, together.

They're wearing civilian clothing, so no one bothers to do anything more than give a cursory glance as they pass. They've practiced this for weeks. Normalcy. Or, at the least, a semblance of it. And they look it. They play their parts well.

They've practiced this for weeks.

She squeezes his forearm as a car speeds through their path, they stop, and for a moment he is afraid, the sound disorienting, but her hand steadies him.

He counts the steps to calm himself, comforted by routine.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

They continue.

The walk has only been a few minutes long, but by the time they reach the little coffee shop it feels like a lifetime has passed in flinching, startled, uncertain moments.

She leaves him, trembling, both of them, trembling, at a table, and she joins the line of customers, hiding her trembling by tapping a light beat against her thigh that counts the steps, a habit she developed after _it _happened, and they first began this ordeal. _One, two, three, four, five six, seven, eight_…

He waits in the silence, the deafening chaos of life around him confusing, so confusing, and he is lost without her steadying grip on his arm.

He waits.

He is terrified that she will not come back.

A silent, isolated island of quiet, he sits, alone, concentrating, trying to understand the world around him, and waiting desperately for the soft _click, click, click_ of her shoes that has become so familiar over these past few weeks.

Her hand rests tentatively on his shoulder, and he breathes again.

She takes the seat beside him, placing the cup of hot black coffee on the table, the porcelain against the back of his hand, and together, they drink.

Silent, expectant minutes pass, and they prepare for the return journey. She slips her arm around his, and they leave.

Even steps, smooth, wordless steps. Tense, practiced, rehearsed movements. Repeat.

She taps her middle finger against his arm, _once_, _twice_. He steps down from a curb and they cross yet another street in safety.

He hasn't been counting the steps. His mind is numb with unspoken fear, adrenalin, the intoxication of a dangerous game.

They both feel quite sick by the time they reach the apartment building.

Still, they trod up the steps, weary, _one, two, three, _and she opens the door and by this time it is unmistakable. She is leading him. They had practiced this for weeks, practiced perfection, the mirage of a man who can see. But he is weary, and she slips her hand into his, threading their fingers, griping firmly, and she leads him up the stairs, up, up, up, how many steps there are, neither knows, nor cares. They count unconsciously.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

Doors opened that he used to open every day. Rooms that he used to move through with no thought are now traversed with uncertain care. The couch he used to sink into with closed eyes after a tiring day is now sought with a fumbling hand.

Together, counting, they reach the bed and sink into it, curling around each other, trembling together as she watches the sunset through the window and he feels the loss of the day's heat against his skin.

"Riza?"

"Huh?"

He kisses her forehead; she threads her fingers through his hair.

Together, they seek comfort.

"Tomorrow…"

"Yes."

"Tomorrow… Let's go to the park."

He whispers it, fearful, terrified, _wanting it so, so much_.

She stares into his grey eyes, wishing he could meet her gaze, knowing that he can't see her pitying look, but guilty, because he does not want anyone's pity.

So she kisses him.

"Of course."

He hugs her, tightly, desperately, afraid of loosing her in this darkness, and she returns the embrace, because she is afraid too.

"Thank you."

There are ten steps between the bedroom and the kitchen, and fourteen between the front door and the couch, and five between the chair and his new collection of Alchemy books written in Braille.

Between he and Riza, there are none.

Nothing, evermore, can separate them.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

* * *

So. Uh... Sorry?

Sorry, sorry, sorry! I just had to do this! This is just a little side project I'm starting, but rest assured, I'm still doing Bloody, and then the other Royai one shot, and I'm hoping to have the last chapter of The Essence of Normality by the end of January.

This new thing is a series of non-related ideas centering around Roy's period of blindness and the stories that have been inspired by it. I've actually got two other chapters of this done, and another two that are almost complete. So, expect half-way consistent updates until I run out of ideas.

In case you couldn't tell, Roy is still blind in this one. This idea seems to be one of the more popular in FanFiction. It definitely has potential.

Anyways, I'll send out another one in a week or so.

Thanks for reading and stuff! Happy Holidays! And Kwanzaa! And Hanukkah, or however it's spelled! And to you Athiests out there, MERRY CHRISTMAS! ^_^


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